


Lamar's Car Thefts

by thebosscamacho



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Filling in a plot hole, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-02 05:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebosscamacho/pseuds/thebosscamacho
Summary: Lamar Davis, a wannabe gangster, is presented with the opportunity to prove he is. By stealing the rest of the cars Devin Weston needs to sell overseas.





	1. Getting in on the Action

**Author's Note:**

> It's about time I go into more mature content.
> 
> If you've played GTA 5 single player, you should be familiar with the mission Pack Man. I always assumed Lamar stole the red Stinger on the truck along with the Monroe. This is how I think it went down.

Lamar wasn’t sure what to make of the deal on Grove street. Stretch was just as surprised as they were that the deal turned out to be a scam, but Franklin was sure he set them up. Either way, that white guy did save them from getting ripped off. Lamar pulled out his phone and texted Franklin.

“Who your friend, give me his number.” He got a reply shortly afterward.

“Trevor Phillips,” followed by a phone number.

Lamar quickly sent Trevor a text that they should hang out sometime. A few days later, Lamar tried to call Franklin, be his phone kept going to voicemail.

“This is some bullshit.” Lamar thought to himself. Maybe Trevor knows where Franklin is. He called him up.

“Yo Lamar, what up?” Trevor answered.

“Hey yo, Trevor, you know where Frank at?” Lamar asked.

“Hayes autos most likely. We were recently hired to do this job for this guy, Devin Weston. He wants some cars to sell, and we were told to deliver them there.”

“Thanks, T.” Lamar hung up and walked towards his Emperor. Twenty minutes later, he arrived. Stepping out of his car, he walked around the garage. It seemed that Franklin wasn’t there yet. He had just come around from the back when he heard a voice.

“You know what the irony is? I’m a major shareholder in that same studio. So what we just did is practically legal…practically.”

Lamar followed the voice to the now open garage door. Inside, Franklin was with an older guy he presumed was Devin Weston and a silver JB 700, the signature car of the upcoming Deep Inside film.

“Wohooooo! Shit! Look at this motherfucker! You doing it big, my nigga! On the set!” He exclaimed.

“Lamar, what the fuck are you doing here?” Franklin asked somewhat astonished.

“Oh, chirped your boy Trevor. It’s fucked up when you gotta get your GPS location on your homeboys through a motherfucking speed freak.” Lamar replied.

“True dat. Devin Weston, master of the two-hour female orgasm. What it is, homes?” The confirmed Weston asked, holding out a hand.

“Lamar Davis,” Lamar replied.

“He was just leaving,” Franklin interjected, annoyed.

“Hey, not on my account.” Weston interrupted. “You looking for gainful employment, homie?”

“Hell yeah, I’m always trying to get some motherfucking paper,” Lamar replied.

“Just the kind of guy I like to work with. Predictable. Hey, we could bring your boy here in on the last part of the shipment.”

“Oh yeah, nigga, that’s exactly what you could do. That’s exactly what you could do.”

“If you want him in, then you get him to boost the rest of the shit you got. Bring me my money and I can go on with my motherfucking life.” Franklin declared annoyed.

“Oh no! Am I sensing tension here, Slick?” Weston asked, then gasped in a thoughtful way. “He’s the spirit…but you’re the brains. Am I wrong? I can see it. Look, I need you on point when we move this stuff outta town.”

“Yeah whatever, man. Call me when it’s done, and after this, make sure we got our motherfucking check, alright?” Franklin declared as he walked out of the garage.

“Ciao, baby!” Weston said casually.

“It is what it is,” Lamar added.

“Yeah…whatever,” Weston said simply as he pressed the button to shut the garage. “Anyway, come here. I’m going to put you in touch with my legal counsel.”

“Hey, hey, don’t touch me, homie,” Lamar said as Weston attempted to put his arm around him. “I don’t get down like that.”

“Yeah… let me tell you how the world works, Slim. There are people who have power, and there are people don’t. And the people who do, use it on those who don’t to get them to do whatever they want, feel me?”

“Naw, man.” Weston opened his mouth only to be interrupted by his phone ring. “Molly, what is it?” he answered.

“How much more can we get if we add a Stinger to the list?” Molly asked.

Weston smiled. “I’ll find out asap, and the Monroe?”

“Not yet, it would be better to move on the Stinger first.”

“Alright, meet me at my office.” Weston hung up and face Lamar. “Give me your phone number, and when my attorney has worked out the plan, she’ll contact you. I’ll see you later.”

With that, Weston walked out the door they had come too and ran off. With no other choice, Lamar went home. When Weston finished his training, he went to his office to find Molly waiting for him.

"I've done some research on the Grotti Stinger" she explained. "One is easily worth a million dollars."

"My contact said he was more than happy with the addition of the Stinger. He agreed to add the car's price to the amount we agreed on." Weston put in.

"Good. I'll contact Mr. Clinton..."

"Not so fast, Kiddo," Weston interrupted. "We got a new guy, Lamar Davis, on the team. He will handle the cars now. He's not as...streetwise as Franklin is, so make sure the plans are...simple."

Molly's face remained stoic, but the surprise could be heard in her voice. "Devin, why did you hire such a person?" she asked.

"You never know when an idiot can come in handy," Weston replied. "I have it on good authority the police might be catching on to our little business venture. I think it would be best if we had a fall guy if you catch my meaning."

Molly knew Devin had a contact in the FIB, Steve Haines. He must have been tipped off by him.

"Okay, Devin. Give me his contact information. I'll have a plan ready for him tomorrow."

Weston gave her Lamar's phone number. "Do me proud, Kiddo," Weston said encouragingly as he left Molly alone in the office.

Molly sighed to herself. This wasn't going to be easy.


	2. Getting Started

The next day, Lamar got a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Lamar Davis?” A feminine voice asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hi, this is Molly Schultz, Devin Weston’s attorney. I’ve been told you will be handling the last cars for the shipment.”

“That’s right.”

“Good. The car you’re going after is a red Grotti Stinger belonging to Bruce “Brucie” Kibbutz.”

“The Bull Shark Testosterone guy?”

“Yes. We’ve arranged for him to meet one of our operatives who will manipulate him into going to the Banner Hotel and Spa in Pillbox. There, you will pose as a valet and take the car to Hayes autos garage.”

“Sounds easy.”

“Good. Call me when it’s done.” With that, Molly hung up.

Lamar drove to Banner, where he was met by the hotel manager.

“You Lamar Davis?” he asked.

“Hell yeah, I am,” Lamar replied.

“A valet uniform is ready for you. Come with me.”

The two went in. Lamar quickly got changed, then stepped outside. Right on cue, the red Stinger could be seen coming down the road. Soon, it pulled into the hotel driveway. The two passengers, Brucie Kibbutz and a blonde woman, stepped out.

“You better not fucking scratch it,” Bruice ordered will her handed Lamar the key.

“Don’t worry man, nothing bad will happen to yo whip,” Lamar assured, holding back a knowing chuckle. Brucie didn’t seem to notice and went inside with the woman. Lamar got in the car and quickly drove it off the driveway. “Too fucking easy,” Lamar said to himself as he pulled into Hayes Autos. Devon Weston was waiting for him.

“Not bad, slick.” Weston complimented.

“Not bad?” Lamar asked. “Nigga, I did that job to perfection.”

“Of course,” Weston replied. “Molly will call you when the last car is ready.” With that, he left.

Lamar took out his phone and called Molly. “The whips at Hayes.”

“Excellent,” Molly replied. “Be ready for the last car.” With that, Lamar went home.

Meanwhile, at the Los Santos Police Station in Vinewood, an important meeting was taking place.

"Alright, gentlemen," The Chief of Police said seriously. "Let's recap."

"Two trust fund boys get their cars stolen on a bridge on the Senora Freeway by guys dressed as Highway Patrol Officers. The trustees in said trust funds are none other than Devin Weston Holdings." The lead investigator, Detective Jefferson stated.

"Later on, Chad Mulligan's Z-type is stolen. The record company he works for had been in the middle of a stock deal with Devin Weston Holdings." Another investigator, Detective Roberts added.

"Speaking of stocks, Devin Weston Holdings had a share in both Richards Majestic Productions; where the JB 700 was stolen and Banner Hotel and Spa; where the Stinger of Bruce Kibbutz was stolen," Jefferson noted. "Mr. Kibbutz himself had no connection to the holding company, but it's no accident that the theft happened there. I suspect he was lured to that hotel in particular."

"Meaning that the next victim is almost guaranteed to have some connection to Devin Weston." the chief concluded.

"Indeed," Roberts put in, "Looking into him, we learned that one of Weston's personal friends is in possession of a Pegassi Monroe, a car he is surely after."

"Contact this person, I want eyes on that car 24/7 until Weston strikes again." The chief ordered. "We're going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all." 


	3. Finishing the Job

The next morning Lamar got another call from Molly. “Mr. Davis, the last car is a yellow Pegassi Monroe. It can be found parked somewhere on West Eclipse Boulevard. Call me once you have it.”

Lamar got into his car and drove to West Eclipse Boulevard. Soon, he found the car. Parking his car around the corner, Lamar walked up to the Monroe, failing to notice the unmarked police cruiser.

"Think he'll lead us to the other cars?" Roberts asked.

"Sooner or later, he'll have to. That car has to be shipped, it's just a matter of how." Jefferson replied.

Lamar picked the lock on the driver side door, got in and drove away while dialing Molly. The detectives followed, careful to keep their distance so Lamar wouldn't notice them.

“I got the ride,” he reported.

“Good, take it to the Glass Heroes Auto Repairs shop in Strawberry. The rest of the shipment will be waiting on a Packer truck for you to take to the drop off point, Procopio Truck Stop in Paleto Bay. You’ll have to contact both Mr. Clinton and Mr. Philips for this.”

“Gotcha,” Lamar replied and hung up. He soon arrived at Glass Heroes and called Trevor first.

“Lamar Davis, wassup?” Trevor answered.

“I’m part of the team, that’s wassup,” Lamara replied.

“Team? I don’t do teams.”

“Uh, Devin Weston’s car stealing team? The one Frank’s running.”

“Oh yeah, that one.”

“Eh, look, I boosted the ride, I ‘bout to meet ya boy Franklin and I need your ass to pick up the packer, meet us outside the garage. We taking these motherfuckers up to Paleto Bay.”

“Alright, Buddy. Fine. That’s a long trip.”

With that, Trevor hung up. Lamar quickly called Franklin next.

“What’s cracking?” Franklin asked.

“Eh, I jacked the last ride on the list,” Lamar replied. “ Ya ready to go?”

“Shit, I’m ready to get paid, nigga.”

“Crazy man’s got the other ones. Come meet me at Glass Heroes in Strawberry, so we can do the damn thing.”

“I’m on my way.”

Lamar didn’t have to wait long before Franklin’s Buffalo pulled into the driveway near the back of the building.

“Gangster’s movin’!” Lamar exclaimed as Franklin and himself got into the Monroe. “He waiting at the garage.”

“The boost, homie, how’d it go? Any problems?” Franklin asked from the driver seat.

“You know me, fool.”

“Yeah, I do know you, fool.”

“So what you think? Smooth as silk.”

“I’m thinking were the blood stains and bullet holes and shit?”

“Man, fuck. That amateur shit behind me. I’m a professional now. Like you and the old dudes.”

“So tell me what happened.”

“I saw the ride, I took the ride. No drama.”

“No security. No one sayin’ “Who the fuck is this gangly motherfucker doing in my car?”.”

“Nothin’.”

“That’s worrying, man. That’s some shady-ass shit.”

Presently, they arrived at Hayes Autos. “Line it up on the carrier, homie.”

“The final piece of the puzzle,” Trevor remarked as Franklin parked the car on the Packer.

“There she is, homie. We straight.” Lamar declared.

“Boss man’s happy, then we’ll get moving!” Trevor called while Franklin and Lamar got down.

“Man, this old buster-ass nigga ain’t no boss.” Lamar quipped in reply.

“Enough, nigga. Get your ass in the truck. Let’s go.” Franklin ordered.

“Let’s get trucking. Paleto Bay. Senora Freeway.” Lamar declared while the truck got underway.


End file.
